These Precious Illusions
by Bluemoon dreamer
Summary: Cameron collapses in House's office, and the diagnosis looks grim... Flash forward, and we see a very different Cameron, but have things really changed? Slightly AU
1. PROLOUGE

**DISCLAIMER: **No, I don't own House; all the characters, settings, etc belong to David Shore and company, I'm just playing with them. Also, if you recognize any songs, television shows, etc, I don't own any of them either; I again, am just borrowing them for my own amusement.

**A/N: **I figure that I should warn you; I have a notorious track record when it comes to finishing stories. What seems like a great idea for a week might strike me as horrible the next week. However, since it's been nearly two weeks on this one, I'm hoping that I can at least get it out. Constant and nagging reviews will help keep me on track, and I will warn you if for some reason I just can't continue. I do have a good idea what's going to happen, but the writing process is fickle and things might change. This is set sometime after "Honeymoon" in case you were wondering. I am a House/Cameron fan, and so there will be angst because I don't seem them together without it, but don't get mad at me if Cameron appears with someone else at some point in the story; since "the course of true love never did run smooth." So, there's your Shakespeare. If certain facts are slightly incorrect, please let me know; I'm trying to keep this is accurate as possible, but since I haven't actually _seen _(I have read them) all the episodes, it's kind of hard.

**SPOILERS: **Anything in season one is game, I am not a spoiler junkie, so don't worry about me spilling something for the next season; since I like to be surprised. However, since this goes AU pretty quickly, I'm not too worried about season two interfering, which is starting in late August, yay!

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PROLOUGE 

Cameron waited impatiently; House was obviously ignoring her. He had his feet up on his desk, Gameboy in hand and his music blaring out of his I-pod stereo set. She itched to go over and smack him or kiss him, one of the two, each had its merits; all she knew was that she couldn't stand the anticipation anymore. She already had a headache and had thrown up earlier in the day, but she didn't want House to know that and if he would just sign off on these forms, she could go home.

Cameron decided that she wasn't going to wait anymore and went and shut off his I-pod stereo and dropped the forms in his lap. "Hey," he said, outraged, much like an eight year old. "I was listening to that."

"I noticed," Cameron said dryly, exhausted with his crap and just wanting to go home where some aspirin could relieve her headache. "Now, sign, and I'll leave."

However, her atypical behavior had peaked House's curiosity and she knew she was in for the long haul. "Someone eat your salad for lunch today, Dr. Cameron," he said slyly.

Cameron glared at him. Did he always have to be such a bastard? Sometimes she even questioned why she loved him. "No, just irritated with my misogynistic boss who won't sign my forms so I can go home," Cameron retorted.

House looked vaguely impressed but even more interested. Damn, why couldn't that have just been a thought? "Misogynistic?" House repeated. "That's hostile, Cameron; anything else you'd like to get off your chest. We both knew that keeping your emotions bottled up causes you to act like a real bitch."

"So, what's your problem?" Cameron asked in spite. Why was she getting into this? There was no way that she would come out ahead. House had too much practice at this.

House chuckled. "I'm not the topic of conversation here, Cameron. So, what's put you in such a lovely mood?"

Cameron couldn't believe he was pushing this. She knew he liked her, even if he wouldn't let their relationship get past the awkward sexual tension phase. House normally messed with her a little; occasionally, when she was tired, she would rise to the bait, but he had never pushed it this far before. "Do you really want to know?" she challenged. She was about to talk about her feelings, and she figured that would be enough to scare him away.

Unfortunately, his keen blue eyes met hers and instead of their usual sardonic light, they were practically emotionless save for what appeared to be… concern? No, she was being ridiculous. House might play with her emotions for his own amusement, but he would never be concerned about her past making sure that did her job, right? "Yes," he said softly

Cameron opened her mouth to speak, what, her brain hadn't quite put that together, and then her world started to spin. She felt her knees go weak, and the concern she thought she might have imagined in House's eyes spread to his whole face. "Cameron," she heard him say vaguely as her knees gave in. "Allison!" Then she blacked out, the look of wild concern on House's face etched into her memory.

House watched Cameron crumple to the floor before him, and as she slipped out of consciousness, he felt his control over his emotions go with her. He pulled his legs off his desk, reaching for his cane as he went, and cursed whatever fate had given him this leg that he had to deal with. The fate that kept him from getting to Cameron four seconds faster.

House dropped to his knees next to her, ignoring the protests his leg gave. He needed to know that she was okay; that she hadn't died right there in his office. He checked her pulse, a little erratic, her pupils, dilated and then her forehead, which was burning up. "Foreman! Chase! Get in here!" he yelled. He knew they hadn't left; Cameron had come in with all of their paperwork for him to sign, per usual.

Foreman and Chase hurried in, perplexed as to why their boss would want them. At the sight of Cameron on the floor, their confusion turned to worry. Foreman was on the floor next to him in seconds, checking her vitals. "What happened?" he asked, as Chase hovered about looking uncertain.

"She decided to take a nap," House said sarcastically. His sarcasm was back, there to beat back him concern until he could express it freely. "She has a erratic pulse, a fever, probably 102° and she's dilated." House gave Foreman a look; they needed to get her into a room but he wasn't the one that could get her up off the floor. Chase would push it, but Foreman wouldn't; Foreman might not always agree with him, but there was a certain amount of respect between them that gave House an edge.

Foreman picked Cameron up off the floor. "Chase," House barked at the shell-shocked doctor, "go get a nurse or something."

Chase took off, and House struggled, painfully, to get up off the floor. Using his cane as leverage, he managed it after about it minute, but with significant pain, which made him grab for his bottle of Vicodin.

He stood for a few minutes, hoping the Vicodin would kick in, before House limped out of his office after Foreman and Chase. He tried to slow his racing heart, but he knew it was futile. He had watched one of a precious few people he cared about black out in his office before him; what was even worse, was that she didn't know exactly how much he cared.

House headed toward the elevator; he suspected that Cameron had been taken down a couple floors to ICU. He would hop on an elevator and join Foreman and Chase; and hope that whatever doctor intended to take over her care wouldn't mess with him.

House had just pressed the down arrow when he heard his name behind him. God, no; he didn't need to listen to Wilson's psychoanalysis of him right now. He needed to make sure that Cameron was okay. "House, hold the elevator," he called when the doors opened, letting a few people off.

House moved into the elevator and considered letting the elevator go on without him, but decided that would just arouse Wilson's suspicions even more. His cane shot out to hold the elevator and Wilson got in with him. "Thanks," Wilson said. He glanced at the panel; only the forth floor button was lit up, ICU. "Why are you going to ICU? I didn't think you had a patient."

"No, I just like taunting those less fortunate than I," House supplied; he really didn't want to have a conversation with Wilson and wished he had pushed another random number to confuse Wilson.

The nurse in the corner gave him a strange look. "You have a problem, Betty?" he asked. She ignored him, and he turned his attention back to Wilson. He had an unreadable expression on his face. "What?"

"Why don't you tell me what, since you're not known to make random trips to the ICU," Wilson pointed out. The elevator chimed and the doors slide open, to reveal Foreman and Chase standing there, looking worried.

"She's down in the ER," Foreman said, stepping into the elevator before House had even moved. "She started having seizures." Chase followed, mute and wide-eyed; Foreman pressed the button and House gripped his cane harder. He hated this.

"Is this a new patient of yours?" Wilson asked, confused. None of them answered for a minute; House had hoped that Foreman or Chase would feel bad enough for Cameron to say what had happened, but apparently not, he had to field this one.

"Cameron collapsed in my office ten minutes ago," House said with a sigh. "She has a temperature, erratic pulse and now she's having seizures."

Wilson looked worried and when the elevator chimed again, the four of them stepped out into the chaotic ER waiting room. Immediately, various patients assaulted Foreman, Chase and Wilson because of their lab coats and tags. House limped past; glad, not for the first time, he ignored Cuddy's constant complaints of his lack of identification as a doctor.

He walked up to the desk, where a nurse and what appeared to be a med student looked very frazzled by their situation. "Where's Allison Cameron?" he asked, hoping that they would be too distracted to ask who he was.

Sure enough, the nurse glanced him over, not recognizing him, but too busy to think about anything other than the stack of papers sitting in front of him. "Doctor Whicker, why don't you explain to this gentleman, Ms. Cameron's situation?" the nurse said, obviously trying to get rid of the med student.

The student, a girl probably no older than twenty-six, glanced at him and swallowed. "Please follow me, sir." She took the file the nurse handed her and had House follow her over to some chairs. "You might want to sit down," she suggested when she opened the file and started to read; her face suddenly paler.

House wanted to throttle her, but he knew if he wanted some information, he would have sit, stand, actually, tight. "I prefer to stand, and what's wrong with her?"

She glanced at him nervously; obviously, he made her uneasy. House couldn't help but smirk a little at that; at least he hadn't lost his touch. "I'm sorry sir, but Ms. Cameron's illness appears to be quite serious. She'll need to stay––"

At this point, House cut her off. He knew a non-answer when he heard one; he had perfected the art a long time ago. "Cut the shit and tell me what you actually know," House interrupted angrily. He wasn't sure if he was angrier with Cameron for getting sick or this med student who was handling the case so incompetently.

His reaction was obviously the last one Dr. Whicker was expecting because she turned a brilliant shade of red and seemed to loose her ability to speak. After thirty seconds of waiting impatiently, House had had enough. "Fine, I'll look myself," House said, grabbing for, and attaining, the file that gave information on Cameron.

"Sir, I don't think you can have that," the med student said, but it fell on deaf ears.

This chart was not good. Cameron had a fever, the seizures had stopped but there was no sign of what might be causing them. Her pulse had settled down, but it still appeared to be elevated. Shit, this wasn't good, and the med student had no clue what might be causing this; hell, he didn't even have a good answer to what might cause this. Well, he had an idea, but he didn't want his hunch to be right.

His eyes scanned the chart; he needed to know what room she was in, 108; excellent. He handed the file back to the stunned med student and set off in search of Cameron. He didn't want to think too much about her situation because the ending didn't include champagne and roses, not that he liked roses all that much, but he suspected Cameron might.

House arrived at the door to room 108 just as a nurse started to wheel Cameron out of the room, on a bed. He glanced at her, and he felt sick to his stomach. She looked pale and peaceful; several more strand of her luxurious auburn hair had come free of her ponytail, and he felt his heart constrict in his chest. This couldn't be happening.

"Sir, you need to back away," one of the nurse's said, pushing him away from Cameron's bed.

"Where are you taking her?" he asked them, keeping his voice as emotionless as possible. He didn't need the whole hospital to know he'd gone soft for a certain young doctor.

"I'm sorry sir, but unless you're family––"

"I'm her doctor," House interrupted, deciding that to claim anything else would be foolish and might be interpreted as caring too much.

The nurse hesitated, obviously trying to decide if he should know or not. "She's gone into a coma," the nurse finally said.

House gripped his cane harder. A coma? The word was so hollow and dead; how could someone always so full of life be in a coma? "Where are you taking her?" he repeated; he had finally realized they still hadn't answered his initial question.

"ICU," the nurse answered. "Now, we really must get moving, excuse us." She and the other nurse pushed past him, and House didn't even try to stop them. He was still in shock; Cameron, bright, young, sunny Cameron, was in a coma. He hadn't even asked if they thought she might come out of it. He knew what her symptoms pointed to, and he doubted it.

House turned to limp slowly toward the elevators; he was still numb and knew that the fury would set in later. He ran into Foreman, Chase and Wilson on his way, each looking frazzled and irritated. "So?" Foreman asked.

"She's in a coma," House pronounced. For the first time he realized that his leg ached, he considered popping some Vicodin, but thought better of it. Chances were that the other pills hadn't taken full effect yet; not like that normally stopped him, but he suspected that his morals might have been upped when Cameron fell into a coma.

"So, what does that mean?" Wilson asked; he wanted House to say what they all feared.

House sighed. "I don't know." Maybe denial would be the best course of action right now; maybe then things would get better.

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Chapter one should be up soon, and reviews are appreciated! 


	2. CHAPTER ONE

**DISCLAIMER: **See the Prolouge if you think I may have acquired rights to House; everything holds the same as previously mentioned.

**A/N: **Thanks ever so much for the reviews everyone; I really appreciated them. In regards to Cameron's hair color, since I had two conflicting reports on the color (black and brown) I went back and checked over the episodes and decided that it was a reddish-brown color, and her hair is now called "auburn" in the previous chapter. Again, if you see any mistakes, please let me know. I've reread it several times, but I don't have a beta, so it's possible I might miss something.

**SPOILERS: **I know that there is a very specific spoiler for "Love Hurts" in this chapter, but as mentioned before, anything for season one is possible; so you're forewarned.

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CHAPTER ONE 

_Six years later…_

Allison rolled over in her bed, surprised that she was even in a bed. For a moment, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the last thing that had happened to her. House's terrified face floated into her consciousness for a second before it was replaced by Robert's face and the self-satisfied smirk he always wore after they had sex.

Allison glanced over at the alarm clock on the table; the green luminescent numbers said: 9:24AM. For a second, Allison tried to figure out why the house was so quiet. Wouldn't the children have woken her by now? Oh, it was Sunday; Robert had taken the children to church.

Church had been a source of contention between them in their relationship. Robert was religious, and he strongly believed that his wife and children should follow his beliefs. Allison had refused flat out to go to church with him, but she told him he could take their children if it made him feel better. So, every Sunday, Robert would get up around 8:30AM and get the kids ready and take them to a 9:30AM service and they would be gone until around noon. She would stay at home, getting some well-deserved alone time.

Allison groaned and rolled out of bed. She had a few errands that she really needed to run, and she wanted to do them alone, so she figured that this would be the best way to get out having to take Kimmie, her darling little four year-old daughter with her.

Also, she had promised Eric she'd meet him to catch up with things; ever since she had given up on being a doctor to stay home with Kimmie, Eric had forced her to get out at least twice a month, telling her that she'd probably become a mommy-drone if she didn't. Allison had laughed when he had first suggested it, but now, over four years later, she was thrilled that he had suggested it. It gave her a chance to keep up with old friends without the kids or Robert, who often acted like an over-sized child, standing there at her side, keeping her from being herself.

Allison showered and dressed, whistling to a song on the radio as she went. It was an old one, _Soak up the Sun_ by Sheryl Crow, but Allison had always really liked it. Down in the kitchen, she left a note for Robert and the kids. She explained what she was doing and when she thought she'd be home, but it wasn't like she wouldn't have her cell phone on her if they really needed to get a hold of her.

So, a little after ten, Allison pulled out of the driveway and headed for Princeton proper, where a day of shopping and fun awaited her. Allison grinned and turned up the radio, thrilled to be alone.

Around one in the afternoon, she pulled into a spot near a small sidewalk café that she and Eric met at every couple weeks. It was a beautiful day, and Eric was already seated on one of the three outdoor tables. Allison smiled at him and came and sat in the chair opposite to him. "Hey, how have you been?" she asked, settling down in the chair, placing her purse by her side.

"Good." He smiled. "How are Chase and the kids?" A waitress came up and took their orders before Allison had chance to respond, but it only took a moment before they were back to the original conversation.

Allison smiled; it was strange to hear her husband called by his last name, especially by one of her close friends. "They're good. They were at church when I left, but I'm sure they're home by now. So, what's new with you?"

Eric shrugged. "Not much. Same job, with the same sucky hours and same irritable co-workers." Allison smiled, knowing exactly to whom he was alluding. "There was a pretty interesting case last week, but since it wasn't my department, I just had to had him over." Eric rolled his eyes. "Every time I see House in the halls he rubs it in, too. He likes to point out he would have raised my salary if I wanted to stay with him." Eric paused. "Sometimes I wish I would have."

Allison nodded sympathetically. She knew the feeling; there were days that she would rather be subject to House's endless sarcasm and spite than her own children, at least he could hold a somewhat intellectual conversation every once and a while. Most of the time, she had to drag an opinion on a medical topic out of Robert if she read something in one of the endless journals. "You're right, that sucks," she said. However, she didn't want to dig too deep in the area of House. Some things were better left untouched. "So, have you and Karen thought anymore about getting married?"

Eric laughed a little, but Allison saw a knowing look in Eric's eyes. He knew that she was purposely avoiding House, just like she did every time. He always brought up House someway in their conversations, and she always changed the subject. Allison got enough news to keep her satisfied, but never enough that she might let something slip at home and cause a fight. Because, years later, House could still cause a fight like no other in the Chase residence.

"We've discussed it," Eric said, "but I don't get the feeling she's too keen on the subject. She's always said that she never wanted to be tied down to a man. She doesn't mean that in an I-won't-be-faithful or I-really-don't-love-you way; she just sees marriage as a somewhat outdated institution, and since I don't mind, I don't push her. It's not like we want children," Eric pointed out.

Allison smiled. "What? You don't want to subject the world to more Foremans? You're not that bad. It's not like little Houses running around."

They both laughed at that. The waitress returned with their drinks, and Allison took a sip as she watched Eric to continue to laugh at the thought. "Could you image little Houses running around? Just as arrogant and smug as him." Eric shook his head.

Allison quieted a little at that. She could imagine little Houses, and for a moment, the buried itch and pain that rarely ever surfaced came to light. At one time, she would have done almost anything to convince House that they could be together, but he was too stubborn for that, too determined that he was broken beyond repair for anything to work between them. And, in the end, she had given up and when Robert had announced his interest, she had gladly accepted it.

Sometimes Allison felt guilty about accepting Robert's offer; did she really love him as much as she could? Or did House still keep part of her? Allison always liked to deny this; she had gotten over House, wasn't Robert proof of that? However, when she was being more honest with herself, Allison admitted that House probably did still hold something of her heart; the part of her heart she thought died with her first husband. The husband that Robert never knew about, which could send ways of guilt coursing through her if she was in the right mood.

"Are you all right, Allie?" Eric asked, obviously he realized the emotions and memories he had stirred with his comment.

"Yeah, just remembering things," Allison said weakly. She had never told Eric about her first husband either. The opportunity had never presented itself before, and in the end, she had decided that maybe it would just be better if everyone forgot about it. She had even begged her parents not to mention it to anyone else, and with their daughter happily remarried, they had gleefully agreed.

"Allison, I didn't mean to bring House up," Eric assured her, and Allison nodded; she knew he hadn't. "But I can't help but wondering what you think about him now?"

Allison froze. He wanted to know how she felt about House, now? How did she feel about House? Quite often when she thought about House now, she remembered the look on his face when she told him she was quitting. That she was pregnant and had decided it would be best if she became a stay-at-home mom. The emotions that passed through his eyes were many and confusing. She remembered exactly what had happened…

_He looked genuinely surprised at first, as if he had never expected her to come forward and say she was pregnant and leaving. The next look was surprising for her, he looked lonely, then hopeless, then something that resembled care, something remotely like jealously before settling on anger; the one emotion he wasn't afraid to express in front of her. "Chase talked you into this, didn't he?" he said coldly._

_Allison tried hard not to gape at him; how could he even guess that? The traitorous part of her mind, the one that had jumped for joy when the strange, care-like expression had crossed through his eyes, reminded her that Chase had suggested it first, and it was unlikely she would have ever considered it on her own. She made her own decisions, the other part of her mind countered; the part she sometimes thought was living in perpetual denial. "He suggested it," Allison admitted. "But I made the ultimate decision."_

_House snorted. "Yeah, right. Chase just doesn't want you working for me anymore. He's just worried that you're resolve won't be as strong as you claim, and one night, when you're defenses are down, most likely after we lose a young patient, I'll see an opportunity to get to you, and I'll take it. Stealing away his precious Allison forever."_

_Allison's cheeks burned in shame and indignation. How could he suggest that, her denial half said. Maybe because you would turn to him if the opportunity presented itself, the traitorous part said wickedly. And when he finally broke down, then–– Shut up, denial said. For some unknown reason, Allison liked to think it must have been her hormones; she had challenged him. She had asked that fateful question. "Would you steal me away, House, if you could? Would you make a move even though you know I'm married?"_

_House had looked at her for a long moment, this time his face went completely expressionless. Allison's anxiety mounted with every passing second; she knew now what she had always suspected, House liked her, maybe even loved her, but he wouldn't ever allow her to know that. Before House could say anything, burst the bubble of hope inside of her, Allison did something was destined to wake her up in a cold sweat, haunting her dreams and causing ever present guilt (and it did). She kissed House._

_It wasn't a chaste kiss; the kiss contained all of her frustration, longing and passion in one furious wave. At first, House seemed to have frozen; unable to react in anyway, and right when Allison was about to pull back, to finally give up on him. He did something that surprised her._

_Both his arms swept around her, and he kissed her back with equal passion and fury. His hands seemed to burn her wherever they connected with her body, and his mouth was demanding that she show him just how much she wanted him. Allison wasn't about to let him down, and she met his demand and wanted more._

_Allison was never quite sure how long they stood in their passionate embrace, but she did know when they pulled apart, she knew couldn't work there again. When she had gotten married, she had every intention of being faithful, and the only way she could see that happening was if her temptation was removed, and her only temptation had always been, and probably always would be, House._

_Allison looked tentatively up into House's eyes after their kiss, if it could only be called that, and saw loneliness and love staring down at her for an instant before his barriers were back, coldness to replace the love and sarcasm for the loneliness. "I'll need to put that on your letter of recommendation if you ever ask for one," he commented dryly._

_Allison nodded weakly; both glad and saddened to see that House had returned to his normal, sarcastic bastard self. "Good night, Dr. House," she had said quietly on her way. "And thank you for everything." Their eyes had met, and for the first time, they seemed to know and accept everything the other wanted to say without words._

_Allison had turned and left. Holding the tears she had felt threatening to fall until she was safely in the car, where she sobbed her heart out for thirty minutes before she managed to pull herself together enough to drive home. Once at home, she had gone in, mumbled something about being tired, and gone and cried herself to sleep. She never told Robert why she had come home sobbing that night, and he knew better than to ask. If it ever came up, he always said that House had probably said something about how glad he would be she was finally getting out from underfoot or something else that discredited everything Allison had ever done for him. He never knew that Allison had sobbed so hard because House had thanked her for everything and had, for a brief moment, offered her an alternative._

_Allison had finished out her time with House without another incident, and they never spoke about it. She knew better than to read too much into it; House had probably humored his feelings because he knew that he would never be hurt by her because she couldn't get into a relationship where she had the ability to hurt him. Still, she knew that he cared for her, and that was all she had ever wanted._

"I'll always have some kind of feelings for him, Eric," Allison admitted softly. "He was much more than a boss to me. He gave me a sense of purpose and desire to help others, as strange as that sounds, that I don't think I would have found under another doctor. He helped me in ways that I can't even describe to you; he probably doesn't even know how much of an impression he made."

Eric shook his head slightly. "Does Chase know how much you feel for him?"

Allison was shocked by his question. "Of course, I often discuss how much I love other men than my husband with said husband," Allison retorted sarcastically. "No, he wouldn't understand; he'd probably call it Stockholm Syndrome or some other stupid psychological disease."

Eric seemed to be trying to piece things together. "So, if you loved House so much, why did you marry Robert?"

For a moment, Allison had no answer. Part of her still wondered why she had married Robert. "I think I just got tired of waiting for someone who would never come to admit what he felt," Allison said. "I'm not entirely proud of what I did, but I'd rather be like this than still waiting for him to make up his mind; trying to decide if he should risk getting hurt again for me. You want to know something, right before we went out on our 'date,'" Allison began to break down, to even think about that night caused her pain, "Wilson came and made sure that I knew what I was doing, so House wouldn't get hurt again. Apparently House can break my heart but I can't break his." Allison dissolved into hysterical tears.

Why could House still cause her tears years later? Eric was out of his chair and next to her in less than a second. "It's all right, Allison," he whispered. "House can't hurt you anymore."

Allison laughed wetly. "I wish I could see it that way, but if he can't hurt me anymore, why do I feel so much pain when I think about him?" she asked. She gave Eric a watery smile; she didn't need a response because she knew there wasn't a favorable one to that. "So, what's the most interesting patient you've had recently? Or all they all hypochondriacs?"

Eric retreated to his seat, and answered all of her questions and told stories, steering clear of House. On occasion, she saw Eric glance just over her left shoulder, but she didn't think too much of it. She suspected it was just some cute girl sitting behind her.

Around three, Allison admitted that she had to get home. Robert was probably going insane with the kids, and she didn't need an institutionalized husband. "See you soon, Eric," she said, standing up and giving Eric a hug.

"Okay," he said, returning her hug. "Take care of yourself, and if you ever just need to talk…" He left it hanging, but they both knew what he meant.

"I'll call," Allison promised. "Bye." She left, not even glancing back. It was going to be tough to go home and face Robert now. With the emotions and memories that had been stirred, she felt even guiltier than usual. Eric had made her face her worst fear, and it turned out that she had been in denial all along. She still loved House, and she doubted that any amount of time was going to change that.

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**A/N: **I'm expecting to have Chapter Two up around Wednesday, and I have a pretty good idea where I'm going with Chapter Three, so maybe you'll have two chapters by the end of the week! Again, reviews are very much appreciated. Also, if anyone is interested in being a beta, I wouldn't mind someone else to go over it, so if you're interested, just drop me a review and mention it. 


	3. CHAPTER TWO

**DISCLAIMER:** See the Prolouge if you have any doubts.

**A/N:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it is very much appreciated. This was the chapter that would never end; I figured that I would just include Foreman's point of view at first, but then I figured it was too short; so you got two additional points of view. Sorry about the former CHAPTER TWO to anyone who read it; I had some problems when posting, and so this is the new version.

**SPOIILERS:** Anything from Season 1 is possible, but I don't recall any specific spoilers in this chapter.

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CHAPTER TWO 

Foreman watched Cameron go; she had changed so much, but she was still the woman he had met seven years before. She made the perfect wife, and if anyone was close to perfection, it was Cameron. Of course, he could never see her as anything other than a sweet little sister, but he did understand what Chase and House saw in her.

Foreman pulled his eyes away from Cameron's car and back to the seat in front of him, which was now occupied by a scruffy, bitter man. "How many times did you make her cry?" he asked sarcastically.

Foreman glared at him. Why had he agreed to do this? He had intentionally pushed Cameron to reveal her feelings about House for him because House had asked him to, and he had no clue why. "Only once, and I wasn't the reason she was crying, bastard. You were," he told House scathingly.

House raised his eyebrows, impressed. "And why was she crying about me, Dr. Foreman? I haven't even seen her in years."

"Apparently she's still nursing a broken heart," Foreman said.

House scoffed. "She's got two kids and a husband that counter that assessment. So, did you tell her that I had moved on? I didn't miss her chipper comments in the morning, I was relieved she was no longer standing over me like a mother hen; or you might have said I got back together with Stacy? She always hated Stacy; thought that she was just an unfeeling whore."

Foreman rolled his eyes. The man was so egocentric that it was almost frightening, except for the fact that he could always see what made others tick and his character evaluations were almost always accurate. "Well, since none of that's true, it must be that she's lying to someone," Foreman said. He had never let Cameron know that after she had left that he and House had become friends, or as much of a friend that one could be when House was involved.

"It must be to you then," House said, leaning back in his chair. "She never lied to me. Possibly the only person who never did. Hmm… I may have to think about that; she does lie, if what you're saying is true, but not to me. I wonder why." House looked thoughtful, like Cameron was a good puzzle for him to solve.

House irritated Forman to no end. Here was a man who was so afraid that he might be rejected again that he couldn't risk putting his faith in the one person in the world who would do anything to keep him from hurting. "You're an idiot," Foreman told him.

House gave him a look. "I think I've had this conversation before."

"She's everything any man could ever want, and you broke her heart again and again because you were afraid that she couldn't live with you," Foreman said coldly. "God, if there was one person in the world who could put up with your shit on a day-to-day basis it was Cameron, and you let her get away."

"I notice that you still call her by her maiden name," House pointed out.

"It's just as hard for me as it for you to know that she's married to Chase," Foreman told him hotly. "He was always a whiny bastard, and Cameron was much too good for him."

"Oh, and I'm not," House said sarcastically.

Foreman was frustrated. Of course, House could turn Foreman's words against him. "Well, at least she loves you. I'm not quite as sure that she loves Chase."

House laughed bitterly. "Oh, she loves him all right. He's conventional, bright and amiable. She got two brats out of the deal; in fact, she loves him so much that she's willing to sit here and listen to you question her faithfulness without so much as batting an eye because there's no doubt in _anyone's _mind that she can't love him. Besides, she can't love me, not after what Chase has given her." The last line was quiet and introspective, without the sarcasm and callous of the preceding lines.

Foreman was confused and exasperated. Then why did House want him to question in her the first place? "Then why the hell did you force me to have her collapse in front of me?" Foreman asked. "Is this some sick game you invented when all the hookers in the area wouldn't take your calls anymore?"

House had the decency to look offended. "Actually, they found out we were friends and stopped coming. The big question here is, why did you even push her if you didn't want to?"

Foreman glared at House. Cameron might be the one to babble about Freud and psychological feelings and unfilled urges, but if you wanted an accurate reading of anyone, trust House to cut through all the fancy words and veiled comments to get directly to the point. For a man who complained he needed a decoder ring to figure things out, he was certainly apt at figuring things out without one.

"Just like I thought," House said triumphantly. Foreman hated how smug House got when he was right. "You did want to push her; you wanted to know the truth just as much I as did. Now, we both have our answers. So, I'll run along home; I have to work tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep."

House stood up and started to limp away. Foreman threw down a couple bills, covering the rest of the check and caught up with House. "I know you, House, there was some reason why you wanted to know her feelings about you, what is it?" Foreman challenged, stepping in front of House, blocking him from his precious car.

House's blue eyes danced for a moment, clearly amused that he didn't know. "Check your mailbox," he suggested dryly and then shoved Foreman out of the way to get at his car.

House hopped into his car, surprisingly nimble for a guy with a cane, and tore out of the parking space. Foreman shook his head; House was still trying to protect himself from Cameron, and something was up. House didn't do anything without a reason, and if House actually loved someone, it was Cameron. So, why was he so curious about her now? Almost five years after she had left.

Foreman went over to his car and drove home, still wondering about House's comment. He pulled up to his apartment and went upstairs, the phone ringing as he opened the door. "I've got it," he called to Karen. He got the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Foreman," a voice Foreman recognized said, "have you seen the invite?"

Foreman was confused, but with the mail on the counter right in front of him, he sorted through it. "No, not yet," Foreman admitted. Although, things were starting to click into place; why House had told him to check his mail and why he wanted to know about Cameron.

Foreman found the letter in question and tore it open. It was an invitation to a wedding, eight months from then, and it was asking him to be part of the wedding party. "Of course, I'll be in your wedding, Wilson," Foreman told him. "Why wouldn't I? So, who else is going to be in it?"

"That's great," Wilson said on the other side of the line, obviously relieved. "Well, you, House, my brother and Erika's brother-in-law for the groomsmen. Then Erika's sister, Beth the nurse, Joanna, another friend of Erika's and then I've asked Cameron, but she hasn't gotten back to me. Erika remembers her and thought she was really sweet. So, I'm going to call her after you."

Yes, everything made sense to Foreman now. House wanted to know about Cameron because she was going to be in Wilson's wedding, and he was therefore being forced to see her again. House, being House, needed to have the upper hand so he had enlisted Foreman to do his spying.

Foreman hesitated about telling Wilson about his lunch with Cameron and House, but he decided it might be best since he was sure that Wilson's request was going to startle her. "Be careful," Foreman warned. "She's a little emotional today."

Wilson made a confused sound, before he made the connection that Foreman had seen her today. Everyone knew about his biweekly meetings with Cameron. Wilson always asked about them, and House was normally in the room for some reason when it happened, which Foreman had long ago realized was not a coincidence. "Why was she emotional?" Wilson asked guardedly.

"House came up today," Foreman answered, knowing that Wilson would need no other information to understand why Cameron was so emotional.

"Oh," Wilson said. "Well, I should let you go. I'm going to call Cameron and then Greg, since it sounds like he's done something stupid, yet again."

Foreman chuckled. "All right, see you tomorrow, Wilson," Foreman said, hanging up the phone. Strangely, he felt better after talking to Wilson. Maybe it was because Wilson had always been able to keep House in line, so he didn't need to worry about Cameron all that much, but Foreman was relieved. He just hoped that Cameron wasn't going to break down on the phone with Wilson, because that was the last thing they needed.

* * *

Allison pulled into the end of the driveway; it was approaching four. After the conversation with Eric, she hadn't felt like she could go home and face Robert right away. She was too conflicted, but after a half an hour of driving around, Allison finally decided she needed to go home. Robert would start to worry, and she was missing the kids. 

She had remembered that Robert had never brought the mail in the day before, and so she stopped to pick it up along with the paper that was stuffed in the box underneath the mailbox. She pulled into the garage and after bringing all her purchases in, dumping the mail on the counter, turned her attention to her lovely children.

They were excited to see Mommy, and she was just as excited to see them. Kimmie had pulled her into the living room and started chatting animatedly about Sunday school, while eighteen-month-old Scott had snuggled up against his mother, content in being held.

Allison loved this part of being a mother, learning and seeing things as her children saw them. Their take on life was so fresh and lively; life had not jaded them and at such a young age, they could find happiness in almost everything.

Robert walked in, leaning on the doorframe, and smiled at the three of them. Allison smiled back, even as part of her heart twisted with guilt. Twisted because for a moment, she had tried to imagine House standing there in the doorway, smiling down at her and their children. Why was he an ever-present figure in her mind today? Was it remember an egocentric bastard day and no one had informed her?

Allison pushed past the thought and turned her attention back to Kimmie. Robert continued to stand in the doorway, and Allison got the impression that he wanted to talk to her about something. She glanced over at him and smiled. "Hey, Kimmie," Allison said gently, interrupting her daughter. "You wanna watch Scott for a moment so Mommy can talk to Daddy?"

Kimmie's eyes lit up; she loved her little brother, which Allison was very grateful for. Kimmie had been so excited when they had told her that she was going to have a little sister or brother, and nothing had changed. "Okay, Mommy," Kimmie said, taking Scott's hand and leading him over to some toys in the corner of the living room.

Allison got up and came over to Robert. He nodded to the kitchen and Allison followed, curious to what he wanted. He wasn't normally so secretive, and she had no idea why he wanted to see her. After all, she had not shown any of her emotions since she had entered the house. "What's up, Robert?" Allison asked once they were safely in the kitchen.

Robert handed over a card he had opened to her, and Allison took it confused. She glanced at the address, it was from Wilson, and was even more perplexed to why Robert was acting so stiff and uncomfortable. She read the invitation; it was for his wedding, and she was being asked to be a bridesmaid. She vaguely recognized the name of the bride; Allison thought she was a nurse. "What? So, Wilson wants me to be in his wedding; what's wrong with that?" Allison asked, although she thought it was strange that she had had her breakdown about House on the same day she was informed she would be seeing him again soon.

"You haven't seen House since you quit, and now you're going to be seeing quite a lot of him; unless Wilson decided not to put up with his shit anymore," Robert pointed out stoically.

"I realize that," Allison said. "That's okay, it's just House. I knew that I wasn't going to go the rest of my life without seeing him again." Again, she had kept something from Robert; she had seen him once since she quit. Due to a slight complication at the beginning of Scott's birth, they had been forced to go to PPTH.

House had come in late on the second night she was there; Robert had gone home to be with Kimmie. He hadn't said much, congratulated her and taken a look at Scott. He had been there five minutes tops, but she had decided against ever mentioning it to Robert; he would probably think she had purposely asked to go to PPTH.

And if she was being completely honest, she had asked to go to PPTH intentionally when she figured there might be complications with Scott's birth. She wanted him in the same hospital with House, because there wasn't another doctor in the world she trusted more to save her child's life, not even Robert or herself.

"Just House?" Robert repeated, incredulous. "House is many things, but he's not 'just' anything. Other than maybe 'just' employed."

Allison sighed heavily. She didn't want to fight; she was emotionally restless and a fight at this point might prove devastating. "Please, Robert, can we not fight about it?" she begged. "It's Wilson's wedding; I'll probably see him five times between now and the wedding and he'll probably do his best to avoid me. He wasn't happy when I was leaving, and according to Eric, he's been a real bastard since then." Allison immediately bit her tongue. She had never had told Robert that House occasionally came up in her lunches with Eric.

Allison was saved from a blow-up by the phone ringing. She picked it up. "Hello," she said pleasantly, ignoring the look that Robert was shooting at her.

"Hey, Allison," Wilson's easy voice said on the other end of the phone. "How are you?"

"I'm good; how are you James?" Allison replied, smiling. She headed out of the kitchen and out onto the patio. She needed to be free of the tense atmosphere of the kitchen where Robert was looking like he might try to kill someone.

"I'm great," Wilson answered. "Have you gotten the invite?"

Allison winced slightly, remembering the mess she had just left in the house. "Yeah, I just opened it as a matter of fact. Congratulations, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," Wilson said nervously. "So, do you think that you could be a bridesmaid? Of course, we'll understand if you can't."

"Of course, I'll be a bridesmaid, James; I'm honored that you asked me," Allison told him softly.

Wilson cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Allison knew there was more coming. "Are you sure this won't cause any fights at home? I don't want to be the source of any marital distress," Wilson said quietly.

"Robert needs to learn to grow up," Allison stated calmly. "Just because I'm going to see House again doesn't mean that I'm going to fall head over heels in love again. I love my family." She was tired of lying, and so she wasn't going to go as far as saying she loved Robert at that moment, because she wasn't sure.

Wilson paused, apparently digesting her comment. "Well, if you're sure," Wilson said uncertainly, obviously he was not believing her. "We'll both be thrilled. Anyway, I called because we're having a dinner in a week for the bridal party, no spouses. Just so everyone can meet everyone else; since most of you haven't met Erika's family. It's next Friday, does that sound good to you?"

Allison paused. She needed to talk to Robert about this; this was not something she could just make a decision on the fly about. "Hey, James, why don't I call you tomorrow after I've talked with Robert?" Allison suggested. "That way I'll give him some time to adjust to the idea, and we won't have to worry about Robert becoming homicidal."

Wilson chuckled. "All right, Allison. I'll talk to you tomorrow. Say hello to Robert and the kids for me," he told her.

"Bye, James," Allison said and hung up. She was happy for Wilson; she knew that his last marriage had ended badly; she also knew that it was partly his fault, but there wasn't another person in the world that probably deserved happiness more than him. Wilson was a great guy, and he got bonus points because he put up with House's shit.

Allison sighed. She was not looking forward to telling Robert about the dinner next Friday because she knew it would lead to a fight. Part of the reason Allison kept such limited contact with her old co-workers and friends, since she had always counted Eric and James as friends, was that being with them would bring House into the equation; and Robert had always been insecure in Allison's love. He had never quite believed that she had gotten over House and for good reason, Allison admitted.

Oh, well; she would face this challenge head on, because she realized something. She wanted to talk to these people again. They understood that there was more to her than just a doctor's wife and a mother, unlike most of the people sure associated with now, whether that was Robert's co-workers or the other mothers at the school. Allison was not only a mother, but a doctor too and for some reason, she had a desire for everyone to know it again.

* * *

Wilson hung up with Cameron, yes, her name was officially Chase now, but he couldn't think of her as anything other than Allison Cameron. He hoped that he hadn't just started a chain of events that would end up seriously damaging Allison's relationship with her husband. Although, she did have a point that Chase was being needlessly insecure over her relationship with House. No matter what Allison wanted, everything depended on House to make a move, something that he wasn't notorious for. 

Wilson walked into his kitchen and opened the fridge, searching for a beer. He was going to need one before he called Greg. As soon as Foreman had warned him of Cameron's emotional state, he realized that House had gone to Foreman as well to spy on Cameron. The man was more of an emotional cripple than he was a physical cripple, despite the problem with his leg.

After he had finished almost the entire can of beer, Wilson felt brave enough to venture a conversation with House. One of the only reasons Wilson had asked Cameron to be in the wedding was because when he had mentioned to House he was going to propose, House had asked if he might include Cameron in the wedding. Wilson hadn't thought about it before then; he hadn't really thought about who might be in the wedding other than House, who had been in the previous two.

Wilson dialed House's number with trepidation; one could never be sure what kind of mood House might be in, and with Cameron back in the equation, Wilson was sure that mood swings would become a way of life for his poor doctors. "What do you want?" House greeted.

"Hello to you too," Wilson replied. "We need to talk about Cameron."

House groaned. "Can't this wait? I was watching my TiVoed _General Hospital._ And I've already had the talk today."

Wilson was impressed; Foreman had been brave to even broach the subject with House. "Yeah, well, I have a few more things to say than Foreman did," Wilson told him. "So, sit tight and shut up."

"Do I get a sucker when it's over, Mommy?" House mocked.

"I'm not sure what Foreman told you, but I'm sure it was along the lines of 'you're an idiot.' So, I'll skip that part of the conversation––"

"Thank God!"

"–– and jump right ahead to, what the hell are you doing, House?"

"I thought it was obvious; I want 'rampant home-wreaker' added to my resume, right next to 'heartless bastard,'" House replied derisively. "I thought they worked well together, what do you think? Anyone going to hire me with those fine recommendations?"

Wilson rolled his eyes. He was never going to get a straight answer out of him. "Why are you incapable of answering a simple question?"

"Really? I thought I answered your question quite well."

"I meant without bullshit and sarcasm, House," Wilson said sternly. "Would it kill you to answer me honestly every once and a while?"

"It might," House answered. "Besides, what do you care what I'm thinking? It's not like you have any moral objections against affairs."

That one stung deep, and was incredibly accurate. Damn, he hated how well House knew him sometimes. "I care when it's Cameron," Wilson said. "You know that, and don't you dare do anything stupid; she's been hurt by you too many times."

"And yet, she keeps coming back," House responded thoughtfully. "So does that mean she has a problem or that I'm the problem?"

"You're definitely the problem," Wilson told him. "But please, House, I don't need my wedding to cause the end of someone else's. She's already hinted that Chase isn't exactly thrilled about the idea."

"I'd be worried if I were Chase too, now, are we finished? Good, I thought so." House hung up, and Wilson ground his teeth. That was not how he wanted the conversation to go. Wilson hadn't expected to get much out of House, but he had hoped for more information than what he got. All he had figured out was that House wanted to see Cameron again, and Wilson had always known that. Wilson also suspected there was a lot going on beneath the surface of those two; things that had happened and they never told anyone about.

Wilson shook it off. He could worry about it all he wanted but it wasn't going to stop the confrontation from occurring, and he was glad that others were going to be there so it might not get as messy as it would if it were just House and Cameron. However, he had a suspicion that it was going to be ugly anyway.

* * *

Chapter Three will hopefully be up by the end of the weekend. As usual, I love reviews! 


	4. CHAPTER THREE

**DISCLAIMER:** See the Prolouge since I'm too lazy to put one up every chapter.

**A/N: **Thanks to everyone who reviewed; I truly appreciate it, especially to those who have reviewed every chapter, an extra special thanks! Also, I would like to thank my new beta, **SimpleNClean92**, for helping me iron out this chapter. Also, I would like to let you know that this chapter takes place not long after the events in the PROLOUGE. The rest of the story will alternate between the Cameron in the coma, and Cameron with the kids.

A couple quick notes; I think I mentioned this in Chapter One, but in my world, Cameron didn't take her dead husband'sname; she kept her maiden name, so that might explain some confusion. Also a**WARNING:** I got a little extreme on language in this chapter; my T rating wasn't for nothing.

**SPOILERS: **Detox, Love Hurts specifically that I recall (it's 2:30 in the morning, give me a break) and anything else from season one is possible.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE 

The monitor beeped at a steady rhythm; House wasn't sure if the noise was comforting or ominous. On one hand, the steady beeping meant that Cameron was not getting any worse or having irregularities. On the other, she was in a coma, so maybe a change in the monitors would be welcome; it might signal that she was waking up.

The noise in the hospital had died down; the rush of visitors between five and ten had dwindled until only a precious few were visiting the others in the extended-stay ICU. House knew it was pointless to continue to sit with Cameron; she was most likely never going to come out of her coma, but he couldn't risk not being nearby if she were. Maybe he would be able to tell her what he felt.

House scowled at that thought. He doubted that he would manage to find the courage to ever tell her how much she meant to him. It didn't matter that she was in a comatose state; he was still a coward. He had been a coward for five years, ever since Stacy had left and drained his heart of any emotion and made him unable to trust.

Footsteps echoed in the hall, but House paid no attention to them. He didn't think that there was anyone else in the hospital that would be interested in visiting Cameron. He had Wilson call her parents to tell them of the situation, but Wilson had said they wouldn't be able to make it out until the next day. House had simply nodded; nothing was all that important right then.

The footsteps stopped nearby, and House glanced up from the floor. Wilson stood in the doorway; he looked exhausted and stressed. "How is she?" he asked.

"I haven't been able to ask her, but I'll mention that you were concerned," House said scathingly. He was on his last nerve and didn't have the patience for stupid questions.

"The same, I take it," Wilson interpreted, stepping farther into the room. For a moment, silence descended again and House returned to staring at the floor. "Are you going to stay here all night?"

"I might," House responded ambiguously. "It depends if the hospital gets the SOAP Network; since they replay _General Hospital _at 3AM, at least they do at home, and I didn't get to see it yesterday."

Wilson pulled a chair up to the other side of the bed and sat down. "They probably do; I don't think the SOAP Network changes its schedule just for hospitals." There was another pause in the conversation and House waited for the bomb to drop. "How are you?"

"I'm not the one in the coma," House replied. "So, I'm just chipper."

Wilson sighed. "Why do you do this? Does it really matter all that much if you actually care about her, House? We both know that she loves you."

House was silent. He knew that Wilson was right. Wilson knew him better than anyone else in the world, and House still couldn't open up to him. "I have a reputation to maintain," House said as if Wilson had pressed a button of automated responses. "People wouldn't look at me the same if they knew I actually cared about someone."

Wilson studied him for a moment, and House tried not to squirm, not something he was prone to do. Why could Wilson make him feel like such an ass sometimes? The only other person who could do that was Cameron. "Does your reputation really matter more to you than she does?" Wilson indicated the sleeping form of Cameron on the bed between them.

House looked down at Cameron, peacefully oblivious to the turmoil around her. Well, maybe not outward turmoil, but his mind was in turmoil. She had done things to him since the day she had walked in for her interview, self confident and perky. He had made some comments, and he had watched her deflate before him. He was surprised to how unsatisfied he felt as he watched her crumple before him. So, in a rash decision, he had decided to hire her. Sure, there were more qualified people, but he had seen something in her that had connected with him, and he wanted to know what.

Now, he was forced to believe that he might actually care about the girl; all right, he did care about her, a lot; why else would he be in a hospital he despised at midnight when not working on a case? "No," House finally whispered. "But what can I do for her now? Whatever it is, is almost guaranteed not to have a treatment of any kind. So, now I have to watch her die?"

"Yes," Wilson answered simply. "Because if the roles were reversed, she would be sitting her, biting her nails and praying that you would come out of it." Wilson stood up and pushed the chair over into the corner. He turned to leave and then paused. "Try to get some sleep; Cuddy's expecting you to work tomorrow."

House rolled his eyes as Wilson left. Of course, Cuddy was expecting him to work. Cuddy had him work while he was detoxing, for God's sake, a little thing like Cameron in a coma wasn't going to get him out of clinic duty.

House turned his attention back to the gorgeous young doctor in front of him. Cameron puzzled him, while thrilling him. What did she see in him? He had done everything to dissuade her from the notion he might be attracted to her. He had dismissed her Freudian logic, even as his heart saw the truth in the statement. No, he wasn't nice to anyone, but she certainly got him to apologize more than anyone else did.

Watching her breathe, House wondered how things might be different if he hadn't pushed her away. She probably wouldn't be in a coma, for one thing, he noted bitterly. He knew whatever she had would have shown symptoms before now, and she had probably hid them from everyone; and if he had only, then he might have…

No, he couldn't blame himself, as tempting as it was. Well, he could blame himself, but House didn't think that it would make him feel any better. There was no reason to feel like shit if he didn't have to; an unfortunate lesson that his Vicodin addiction had taught him. Or maybe he was just selfish? House wasn't sure.

House leaned back in the chair, hospital chairs were always uncomfortable, and thought about the current situation. He knew that Cameron could be in a coma for a few more hours or a few more years, especially since they were unsure how she had gone into the coma in the first place.

House gently took her hand; it was warm. He leaned back in the ungodly uncomfortable chair and knew that his leg would be killing him in the morning. He didn't care; he wasn't going to leave Cameron there alone; so if his leg hurt like hell, well, he could deal with it. He needed to do this, but he wasn't sure why.

Another thing he could figure out in the morning. House closed his eyes and thought about all the things he wanted to say to Cameron when she woke up. There were so many, but soon his head drooped, and in no time at all, House had fallen asleep next to the woman he wouldn't admit he loved.

* * *

Amanda Cameron impatiently waited for her bag to drop down the chute at baggage claim. Her husband had gone off in search of their rental car, and she was left to collect their single checked bag. Amanda cursed herself again for even checking a bag; she needed to see her daughter, and she needed to see her now. 

She had had a hard enough time accepting the fact that they wouldn't be getting to New Jersey until over twelve hours after her daughter had gone into a coma, but now that she was so close; she didn't want to wait anymore. Amanda noticed a bag that looked like theirs, but a couple of young kids grabbed it before she could see, it was theirs. Amanda ground her teeth; hurry up!

After five more agonizing minutes, Amanda had their bag in hand and went off in search of her husband. She stood outside the single terminal airport and anxiously awaited her husband's arrival. She knew it couldn't be taking too long, but her little girl might be dying or dead!

Irving Cameron pulled up in their rented car; Amanda threw their things in the back and told him to get to the hospital, but it was seven o'clock in the morning and they had hit rush hour traffic. By the time they reached the hospital, Amanda had nearly had a panic attack, and it now fast approaching eight.

By the time they were in the hospital, it had taken forever to find a place to park, it was now eight fifteen. Amanda and Irving hurried into the main lobby, nearly colliding with an attractive middle-aged woman, "Sorry," she had apologized, and then turned her attention back to a young black doctor, "he was there…"

Amanda accosted the poor nurse at the front desk. "Where's Allison Cameron?"

The nurse looked confused for a moment. "Oh, Dr. Cameron," Amanda nodded impatiently. "She's in ICU, on the fourth floor, room 4123."

"Thanks," Amanda said tersely. She just wanted to see her daughter. She dragged her husband over to the elevators and impatiently pressed the 'UP' button. A couple of doctors joined them in waiting for the elevator, one was very young and Australian, the other was approaching forty and very good-looking, Amanda noticed, even in her state of distress. "So, he was there all night long?" the Australian was saying.

"Yes," the other doctor replied. "He said something about _General Hospital _and the SOAP Network when we talked around midnight, but I knew he wasn't leaving."

"So, is he awake now?" The elevator dinged and other people got off, Amanda bustled in and pressed '4' on the panel. The other two doctors followed them in, still talking. The older of the two looked at the panel, but didn't press anything.

"Foreman said he's not," the name Foreman struck Amanda as familiar, but she couldn't recall where she had heard it before. "I want a picture; can you take pictures with your cell phone?"

"No," the other doctor said ruefully. "It would be great blackmail."

"You're telling me," the older doctor said. "He's not acted like this in years. After the detoxing episode a few months ago, I figured that he had said goodbye to all emotional attachments a long time ago."

"So, he really was detoxing then? Why didn't Cuddy pull the pills or threaten his job or something else?"

The elevator dinged again, they were on the fourth floor. The elevator's four occupants all disembarked. The two doctors headed over to the nurse's station while Amanda and Irving followed the wall's directions to their daughter's room.

Another pair of doctors, a woman and man, passed them as they headed in the direction of their daughter's room. Both were talking animatedly and smiling; Amanda wondered how anyone could smile in a hospital; they were such dark and depressing places.

They had almost reached Allison's room, when a scruffy and irate man walked up, limping with a cane in hand. "Cuddy!" he yelled. "Don't think that just because you're my boss I won't hit you with my cane! If you post those pictures of me, I swear to God that––"

"That you'll what?" a female voice from behind them said; Amanda turned to see the middle-aged woman doctor she had nearly run into downstairs standing there. "Spread stories about me to the nurses, House? God, can you grow up?"

"I'm not the one who was taking pictures of me while I was asleep to use as blackmail," the other doctor, House, who Amanda remembered was the name of Allison's boss, snapped. "I think that's relatively childish and immature." House turned his piercing blue eyes to her, and Amanda felt herself blush. "What do you want?"

"I'm here to see my daughter…" Amanda started to say, but the rest of what she was saying died; the look in House's eyes was cold, irritated and disturbed.

"Her name's Allison Cameron," Irving said in her wake, and House gave them both a look of appraisal. Amanda tried hard not to squirm; no wonder her daughter mentioned how unnerving he could be.

"She's in there." He motioned to the door at his back. "There's no change in her condition since Wilson talked to you. She's in a coma, and we don't know why." His words came out as almost bitter, and Amanda sensed a lot of unresolved guilt in the man standing before her.

House stepped aside, and Amanda rushed into the room. Her daughter lay on the bed, alive and breathing, but unresponsive. Amanda felt tears form in her eyes; it was her baby girl lying here, and there was nothing she could do.

Irving wrapped his arms around his wife, and Amanda leaned into him. He would be strong for her, just like he had for the past thirty-five years. But what about Allison; who would be strong for her? There were more footsteps outside the room, as Amanda stared at her daughter's motionless form. What could she do for her?

Someone cleared their throat behind them, and they turned. Standing in the doorway was the older doctor that had rode up in the elevator with them. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron, I'm Dr. James Wilson," he introduced. "I'm your daughter's doctor."

"What's making her sick?" Amanda asked, hoping that they would have some news.

Wilson glanced furtively at House, still waiting outside the room. "We don't have most of the tests back yet, but we're hoping to have some idea in the next couple of hours."

"So, is that good or bad?" Irving wanted to know.

Wilson froze for a moment. "We don't know," House said, stepping up in Wilson's absence. "She could get better or she could get worse; but since we don't know what's causing it, we can't treat it."

Amanda nodded; she thought she understood what she was saying, but it didn't make it any easier to sit there and watch her daughter possibly fade away before her eyes. "You'll keep us updated?" Amanda said hopefully.

Wilson fielded this question, since it appeared House had said all he was going to. "We will," Wilson promised. "Now, if you'll excuse me." Wilson turned to leave, and after a long moment, House followed him down the hall.

Amanda watched the doctors walk away; they had hardly given her any news, but both of them had tried to be reassuring. She thanked them for that; it made some things easier to deal with. A pair of doctors, one of them the young doctor on the elevator, walked up to them. "Hello, Mrs. Cameron?" the black one said hesitantly. Amanda nodded. "Hello, I'm Eric Foreman, this is Robert Chase," he motioned to the other doctor. "We work with your daughter. We just wanted you to know that if you need anything just let us know."

Amanda smiled at them weakly; it was clear that Foreman saw her daughter as a sister of sorts. Allison had mentioned him, that's why the name Foreman had sounded familiar, many times, and she always had good things to say about him. "Thank you, Eric," Amanda said quietly. "I'll keep it in mind."

Foreman nodded, and Amanda felt even better. Her daughter was obviously surrounded by people who cared about her, and she suddenly felt much more confident that her baby girl would get better.

* * *

"What the hell was that?" Wilson asked House, once they were out of earshot of the Camerons. Wilson was confused by House's actions; House never showed empathy to anyone, and to say that they couldn't treat it without knowing what was causing it was very un-House like; in fact, it was anti-House. 

"What? I didn't check out her mother like you did, sorry, I'm not that––" House said mildly; although Wilson was sure that House knew what he meant.

"Shut up, that's not what I meant. We can't treat it without know what it is?" Wilson surmised. "Who the hell are you and what have you done with House?"

"We both know what it looks like," House said, stopping the middle of the hallway to look at him. "Do you want me to tell them that it appears their daughter has rabies? The whole fucking world knows that there's no real treatment for rabies. Plus, we can't even start her on treatment because if it's not rabies, the medication we give her will kill her."

"If it was anyone else you would have told them," Wilson challenged. No matter what House thought; he was acting differently because it was Cameron.

"Maybe," House replied after a space. "Of course, it might be because I'm in denial over what it is or I just don't give bad news well; people tend to punch me. I need to change into different clothes." House limped off, and Wilson watched, helpless. House had just admitted actual feelings and now needed to change.

Wilson shook his head and head off in the other direction. He was going down to clinic duty; since Cuddy had roped him in for a few hours of Cameron's usual shift. He went down the stairs, not wanting to meet House again at the elevators.

Wilson walked into the crowded lobby and groaned; of course, it had to be busy. "How is he?" a quiet feminine voice asked from behind him. Wilson turned to see Cuddy standing right there.

"He admitted he cared for her in some way last night," Wilson said with a sigh. Cuddy raised a dark eyebrow in surprise. "He won't tell them what he thinks it is, but I don't want to either. And it's not his job; it's mine."

Cuddy smiled sympathetically. "She's too young and she actually makes House pleasant," Cuddy said softly. "I didn't think anyone could do that, and he obviously likes her because he went on a date to get her back. He wouldn't do that for anyone."

"A date I heard from Foreman he screwed up horribly," Wilson pointed out. Wilson shook his head, clearing all the unpleasant thoughts away. Maybe the menial tasks in the clinic would do him good today, because he wasn't sure if he could tell anyone they were going to die today without breaking down. "So, what's up with them?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Probably sneezed funny and want to make sure they don't have Yellow Fever or something." It was surprising how similar her views of clinic duty was to House's; she just didn't want him to know that she didn't like it either then he could complain. She handed him a clipboard and a folder. "Have fun." She walked off her to her office.

Wilson glanced down at the chart; a suspected strained tendon, hurray! "Lin, Jacob!" he called out into the waiting room. A tall, thin Asian man stood up and limped after him into Exam Room three. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Chapter Four should be up around Thursday; it's back with Cameron in the future. Oh, and I adore reviews. :) Also, I'd love feedback on how I'm writing House; he's tricky and any suggestions or critiques would be welcome. 


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